Concubinus
by 157yrs
Summary: Driven by his hatred for the Dark King Aizen and desire for revenge, Ulquiorra sells his soul to his enemy and is given as a bed slave to the king's niece, the innocent Princess Orihime, who doesn't seem to want or know what to do with the heartless man.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach

**Prologue**

Sosuke Aizen stared at the flames in satisfaction as he sat atop his war horse. The whole Karakura Palace was engulfed in it. Giant billowing clouds of smoke rose up to blend into the cold, night sky as life after life within the castle was destroyed. By the time the sun rose, there would be nothing left for the rebels to find. Without the Inoue Clan and their realm to protect them, the Fifth Column was as good as destroyed. It was another kingdom that would be annexed into Hueco Mundo.

"What are your orders, Sir?" the senior captain, Kaname Tosen, asked with a solute. Though the man was blind, his militant history was very impressive. Aizen knew from personal experience that aside from strategies and his ability to command troops, Tosen was also exceptionally skilled with his sword.

"Withdraw the archers and create a perimeter around the castle," Aizen began. It wouldn't do if any of the local populace learned that _he _had orchestrated the fire. It would only create more sympathizers for the rebellion to recruit.

"Keep the townsfolk away."

Nodding Tosen saluted and turned to issue orders.

"Oh and captain if you happen to find any survivors," Aizen gestured towards the castle.

"kill them immediately."

Smirking to himself, Aizen watched the dark skinned man retreat. If everything went his way, the Inoue clan would become martyrs for his cause. Soon the people would turn on the Fifth Column and the very people the Inoues had secretly supported and fought to protect would be eliminated. Aizen found it deliciously ironic.

"Lord Aizen," a new voice called. Frowning, the King of Hueco Mundo turned and raised an eyebrow when his most trusted advisor, Gin Ichimaru, threw one of Aizen's head generals unceremoniously at his feet.

"Gin, what is the meaning of this?" Aizen asked, studying his general - Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez's swollen eye and bloodied lip. The chains about his wrists were exceptionally thick, but due to the man's impressive physique, they were necessary to prevent his escape. The once tall and proud man was covered in blood and ash and Aizen noted that his uniform was torn in places. There was something very wrong with what he was seeing. Grimmjow was suppose to remain behind and protect Los Noches along with Stark and Rureaux.

Turning his gaze sharply back to Gin, Aizen's frown deepened. Aside from himself, there were only two other people who could have authorized the general's participation.

"I wasn't aware that you and Tosen had planned to bring Grimmjow on this campaign," he started in a dangerous tone. Without his expressed permission, such things could be considered treason.

Smiling innocently, Gin waved his hands in a silly gestured.

"Oh no, no. You see _we_ didn't plan to bring him. I guess someone just wanted to take the initiative. We caught him in the castle trying to lead a group of rebels out, " the pale, grinning man explained. Gin's smile was so large that his eyes were obscured behind a constant squint. Aizen valued the man for his personal genius and sly maneuvers in and off the battlefield. He was a snake.

Cocking his head slightly, Aizen turned back to look down at his general.

"How interesting. Do you have anything to say in your defense Grimmjow?"

The general in question began to breath heavier as he stared hatefully up at Gin before turning his icy blue eyes on the King of Hueco Mundo. There was something terribly destructive behind that gaze. Aizen mused at the waste of potential and talent.

"Long live the Fifth Column," he spat before Gin suddenly withdrew his own blade and pressed it into Grimmjow's neck.

"You really should learn to be _silent_," the man smiled wickedly. Aizen waved him off.

"Take him back to the barracks for now. Keep him under guard," he began. Gin's smile faltered slightly.

"I didn't realize you were so fond of mercy." Gin's words were clearly a question and Aizen had to silently agree. He couldn't remember the last time that he had pardoned anyone. It simply wasn't in his nature...

"Once we return to Los Noches have him marked and sent to the dungeons until he can be properly dealt with." At his words, the general began to curse and struggle again, so much so that Gin had to summon two additional soldiers to subdue him as he was dragged off. Grimmjow was very powerful.

He had too much potential and talent to waste.

"Lord Aizen!" a new voice cried. It was desperate and shrilly but the feminine ring in it was what caught Aizen's attention. Startling his horse, the beast turned slightly just as a young woman threw herself down at the king's feet. Behind her, Captain Tosen and another soldier followed at an urgent run.

Aizen noted her brown hair and how the light from the fire caused it to burn red. She was a young thing with a somewhat curvaceous frame, from what he could see as she prostrated before him. He thought she seemed vaguely familiar to him.

"Lord Aizen, Uncle, please help! My family is trapped inside!" the girl begged as she rose to her knees. she couldn't have been more than sixteen. Her pink dress was stained with cinders and her cheeks marred with dirt, but despite the filth she was decidedly pretty. It was only when Aizen saw her grey eyes that he recognized her as his oldest brother's great granddaughter, Orihime Inoue.

So, one of the royals had escaped. Aizen's grip on the reign of his horse tightened as he fought to reign in his temper. He could not properly inherit the Inoue Kingdom if one of the royals survived. Kaname would need to be reprimanded for letting one escape. The blind captain in question was slowly sneaking up behind the princess as the girl continued to beg Aizen for assistance.

"Please, my brother was right behind me. I just saw him. Send some of your soldiers in to rescue him. I think the castle is under attack," Orihime explained urgently as she hurriedly rose to her feet. Tears flooded her eyes and in a moment of amusement, Aizen felt the tension leave him. She was very pretty when she cried. Her grief made her beautiful.

Smiling down to her, Aizen forced his eyes to soften.

"Of course my dear. We're here to help," he told her gently. Orihime visibly brightened at his words and smiled through her tears. Aizen watched in amusement as the princess's expression froze when Kaname struck her over the head with the blunt side of his blade. Dispassionately, the King of Hueco Mundo watched as the princess collapsed into the grass.

"Take her to the medical tent and have her cleaned up. Keep her sedated until after we reach Los Noches," he told Kaname sharply with a cold gleam in his eye.

Perhaps she too would be of some use to him.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach

**Chapter 1**

_His enemy took everything from him. His family. His home. His purpose. Now there was no one left. Time weighed heavily on his back. The faces of his youth all blended together until they faded as one. Morality fell off his shoulders like a worn out cloak. His name became a whisper before becoming forgotten altogether. He became nothing. He had nothing, he was nothing; nothing but his drive for revenge. Blood would be paid with blood, even if it meant selling his soul. _

Green eyes stared blankly ahead. He was vaguely aware of the many people scrambling around him with their wheelbarrows and their torches and laughter, just as he was aware of the cold, flat stone that he sat upon and the dark cave surrounding him with it's razor sharp stalactites hanging over his head.

He sat in the center of the Rebel's strong hold, the Silent City. Without his composure and self discipline, the noise and sounds and color would have been overwhelming. How many centuries had we wondered as a mindless beast of the wilderness before relearning the way to walk like a man?

In the end though, none of it mattered. It was all white noise.

Tonight was the night. With or without these people's help, he would enter his enemy's fortress and destroy him. His revenge would then be complete.

"What is his name?" The cloaked figure asked and cautiously studied the pale man sitting across the massive fountain, on the other side of the town square. It was getting late and most of the rebels and their families were going home. The hour of the day was always obscured by the cool air and walls of the cave that served as a the City of Silence's fortitude, but most rebels knew by heart the time when twilight came upon them.

"We don't know. He doesn't talk. We found him beyond the southern encampment. He obliterated Aizen's scouts," a tall, muscular youth with bright orange hair replied. Though only twenty summers, the youth was strong and the current the acting leader of the Fifth Column. Once a prince to the Green Valley, Ichigo had a good heart and a strange power that drew others to him. The rebels often whispered that it would be through him that Aizen would be defeated.

The cloaked figure did not necessarily agree with them.

"There's nothing beyond the Southern Camps," he told the prince skeptically. Ichigo shrugged.

"That's where we found him, not even a season ago. Look, we're running out of time and we don't have many more options. Aizen's spies know most of our faces now, if not our names. Why didn't you bring Grimmjow?"

The cloaked figure pretended not to hear the frustration in the prince's voice.

"I told you we could never trust him to be discreet. Already he has caught Aizen's ire."

Ichigo swore. The cloak figure continued to study the pale man. The window of opportunity _was_ closing. If they wanted to act, it would need to be now.

"You say that he doesn't speak?"

Ichigo frowned, realizing that they were no longer talking of Grimmjow. It was a pity too. Though long rivals, Ichigo had sensed in the general a kindred spirit. Since their first encounter on the battlefield eight years ago, the prince had hoped that the general would one day turn his back on the tyrant he called master and join the rebels. He would have been a great ally. How bittersweet it was to obtain something, only to lose it moments later.

"We don't know. He never talks to us."

The cloak figure conceded that silence would be best, especially for the position he would need the man to fill in the palace. However, there was something about the pale man that made the cloaked figure pause and it had nothing to do with moral price that he would have to pay once he brought his to the palace.

The pale man was very strange.

"What are those markings on his face? Was he a slave?"

The prince frowned at the cloaked figure's persistence and turned to look at the pale man's marks on his face. Two identical tattoos, the color of teal, ran down the pale man's face from his eyes all the way to his jaw. They looked like tears.

In Hueco Mundo, when a slave stole or ran away or killed or lied or gave some great offence, his face was marked with a unique tattoo that advertised his sin. It damned slaves and outcast them. Once marked, a slave could never buy their freedom. If their faces were marked, then they no longer had the protection of their master and were fair game to fate's more cruel whims.

"No, there were no scars on his back from any lashes to indicate that he was a slave. We think they're tribal tattoos. Some of the rebels have taken to calling him Ulquiorra, the one who cries," the prince explained.

The cloaked figure frowned.

Just because a person had no scars from a whip did not mean that that person had not been a slave. He would know.

Walking over to the pale man, the cloak figure took note of the green hilted sword at his side. It was easy to see that he was a warrior. Though short and lithe, the pale man held a disciplined posture and through the thin, muddied clothing, his muscles could be seen.

"Hello Ulquiorra. They tell me you are the one I am to take back to the palace," the cloaked figure greeted in a somewhat cheeky manner. Behind him Ichigo sighed, more than used to their mysterious benefactor's childish behavior. To most people, it was very annoying but the pale man did not seem to be bothered.

He continued to stare unflinchingly a head.

The cloak figure frowned at his silence.

"Perhaps we should call you the silent man," he cajoled. Ulquiorra did not respond.

Up close, the cloaked figure could see that the man's eyes were a very striking green. He was a very peculiar fellow. His lack of response was tiring though.

"You know, you're going to have to actually respond - if not with words then a headshake at the least. Most masters like silent slaves but disobedient ones, well they quickly fall out of fashion." Leaning in, the cloak figure made to snatch a handful of Ulquiorra's black hair.

At once the pale man's eyes snapped to the shadow of the cloaked figure's face before he grabbed the man's wrist. Standing up, he quickly swept the cloaked figure's feet out from under him and twisted his wrist at a one hundred and eighty degree angle until a snapping noise could be heard. The cloak figure immediately went limp and Ulquiorra followed through with a swift kick to the man's gut. The attack was enough to send the cloaked figure down into the dirt.

"Hey stop that!" Ichigo cried and called several soldiers over to him. The Fifth Column could not afford to lose their mysterious benefactor. His knowledge and connection to Aizen's empire was too valuable.

"Ah good, at last he responds!" the cloaked figure wheezed before slowly climbing to his feet. When Ichigo and his soldiers moved to apprehend Ulquiorra, the cloaked figure waved them off.

"I wanted to see just what type of warrior we were dealing with. He'll do nicely," he told the prince. Ichigo huffed and crossed his arms, tired of the mysterious man's antics. He was ready to throw both him and Ulquiorra out of the Silent City, but right now they were Ichigo's only hope to retrieving his cousin, the Princess Orihime.

"Now then, we're going to have to clean you up. No royal slaves have hair that long. You'll never pass the Keeper of the House's inspection," The cloak figure began and gestured for Ulquiorra to follow him. The prince was only mildly surprised when the pale man did just that.

Frowning, Ichigo watched as they left the square and then left without a backwards glance.

"I can get you into the palace at sunset but you probably won't be presented to Aizen until the following morning. You'll have to remember not speak," the cloak figure went on and made his way towards the city gates. Ulquiorra followed silently, making sure to put a healthy distance between them but not enough so that he could not hear.

Hueco Mundo was a strange land. One that he was unaccustomed to. Despite the cloaked figure's continuous babble, Ulquiorra had to concede that the man's knowledge would be useful. At least until he passed through the strange country and was smuggled into the palace.

Outside the city gates, two horses stood tethered to an outpost. When Ulquiorra neared them they both grew skittish, and it took the caked figure several minutes to calm them.

"This is Shinso and Ikoroso," he introduced, but Ulquioraa could notcare less what the beasts' names were and ignore him.

"There are bathhouses in Los Noches, but we can't take any chances," the cloak figure continued while he untied the horses and passed the reins of one of them to the pale man.

"Even the water in that country is loyal to its king," he told Ulquiorra gravely before climbing onto the his horse. Ulquiorra followed suit.

"There is a stream not too far from the caves that you can bathe in. All royal slaves are numbered, so you best be prepared for me to administer your tattoo," the mysterious man explained. Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes as he listened.

There would be no tattoos. Once Ulquiorra was inside the palace, there would be no need for anything. All bets were off. The alliance would be broken. All that would matter would be his revenge. Once his enemies blood coated his blade, his purpose would end and the curse would be lifted. Anything his companion had to say to the contrary was of little consequence.

The cloaked man continued on, obliviously.

"I'd leave the tattooing to the palace protocol staff but the master physician would insist on the full procedure. You know: vocal cords removed, reproductive sterilization, and of course they would demand your origin papers and surely we can't have that." The cloaked man's voice took on a sly edge that Ulquiorra did not particularly care for.

"That reminds me…"

All at once, Ulquiorra's horse stood up on it's hind legs and whinnied madly. The pale man was thrown off and just as he prepared to land, the cloaked figure crashed into him with surprising strength. The impact sent both men into the sand with cloaked figure on top of the pale man. Ulquiorra moved to grab his opponent's neck and was surprised when he only grasped air. What sort of trickery was this?

Trying to compensate, the pale man moved to grab the cloaked figure's wrist that he had broken less than an hour before only to grasp a perfectly healthy arm. The surprise was enough of a distraction for the cloaked figure to dislodge Ulquiorra's sword. Throwing the pale man away from him, the cloaked figure stood up and held the green hilted blade up in the air in triumph.

"You'll never get into the palace with this. Slaves are forbidden to carry weapons," he stated before carefully strapping the blade to his belt. Without another word the cloaked figure climbed back onto his horse and waited for Ulquiorra to mount his own.

The pale man in question clenched his fists painfully. The beast inside him roared in outrage but the chains around it's prison were strong and Ulquiorra remained in control. For a moment he truly contemplated killing his companion, but then the moment passed. The cloaked figure was his key to entering the palace. Still, how could he hope to fulfill his purpose without his sword?

The rules were very clear. His enemy had to be pierced with his blade and his weapon coated in his opponents blood.

"We have to take things slowly. Once you've settled in and made contact, I'll have your sword returned to you," the cloaked figure explained slowly, as if reading Ulquiorra's mind.

Sighing silently, Ulquiorra soothed his frightened steed and then quickly mounted the creature. His thoughts soon drifted to his mysterious companion. Just who was the man? Not many had the stamina to fight an opponent of Ulquiorra's caliber. In all the centuries that he had wandered the Earth, no one had ever managed to take his blade from him.

Ulquiorra thought of their first skirmish in the City of Silence. He distinctly remembered breaking the man's wrist but just moments before during their fight, the man's wrist had been fully restored. What did it mean?

* * *

Aizen watched in satisfaction as Grimmjow braced his arms on the stone wall and bared his bloodied back to Tosen's whip. The sound of the leather cracking over flesh echoed loudly off of the dungeon walls. Grimmjow had taken his punishment in silence and Tosen knew better than to raise his voice.

Despite the countless red welts and stripes of broken flesh on his back, Aizen felt somewhat dissatisfied with his general's punishment. Rebels and traitors were wages for death. Of course, Aizen knew that Grimmjow's true punishment was only just beginning.

"Kaname that is enough," he spoke softly. Grimmjow stared resentfully at Aizen as the captain quickly bowed and dismissed himself.

"If you think a few lashes are going to loosen my tongue, then you've made a serious mistake," Grimmjow began, breathing heavily. Aizen inclined his head slightly as he moved toward the man, knowing that Grimmjow did not have enough energy to attack him.

"Oh?" Aizen asked casually as he picked up Tosen's whip. Grimmjow swallowed audibly but his vicious expression never changed.

"That's right! If you think I'm going to tell you anything about the Fifth Column then you can you've got another thing coming you fu- ah!" the general cut himself off when he felt the sudden sting of the whip wrap itself around his neck. Tugging maliciously on the cord, Aizen forced Grimmjow to his knees.

"I highly doubt the rebels confided anything of importance to you," the King of Los Noches mused before grabbing a fistful of Grimmjow's hair and forcing the man to bare his throat to him. The whip was wrapped too tightly around the general's neck for him to speak and Aizen knew that he would have to finish quickly, less Grimmjow suffocate.

Snapping his fingers, three uniformed slaves appeared. One carried a neatly folded pile of white clothing while the other two carried a large tray with a bole and what looked like a glowing knife on top. Grimmjow's eyes widened and he tried to struggle but Aizen's grip was merciless.

"The truth is Grimmjow that had you been anyone else, I would have had you skinned and gutted alive. Fortunately for you, such a condition would most likely frighten your new mistress and we can't have her frightened... so I'd thought we'd come to a compromise," Aizen explained with a dark edge to his voice.

Gesturing to the slaves with the tray, both of them walked over so that Aizen could reach the glowing knife. With the feel of the whip suddenly forgotten from a rush of adrenaline, Grimmjow struggle all the more when he saw just how hot and glowing the blade was.

Grinning wickedly, Aizen gripped the heated knife and dipped it into the bowl. From his poor angle, the general couldn't see the contents but he knew what was inside of it. Ink.

"The new princess, Orihime Inoue, will be staying here indefinitely at the palace," Aizen began. Grimmjow kept his eyes on the knife as the king withdrew it from the bowl, now smoldering and covered in a blue liquid. Helplessly, he followed it with his vision until the tip disappeared under the skin of his eye.

"she is from a strange upbringing and though young, could still be dangerous," Aizen continued. Grimmjow felt a strangled scream erupted from his throat as an agonizing pressure burned into his skin.

For one moment, time seemed to stop and it was all Grimmjow could do to keep conscious as the flaming blade slowly scraped across the skin under his eye. Sound disconnected and the blood rushed throughout his body to swallow his nerves. There may have been blood. There may have been tears. All of it had been swallowed up by the fire and the tearing as the blade traveled to his other eye and the agony repeated itself.

Aizen's grip was unbreakable.

Once it was over, Grimmjow came to his senses with a sharp boot to his gut. Groaning, he collapsed onto the suddenly, cool stones beneath him and tried to close his eyes.

"You're job, Grimmjow, is to find out how dangerous she is. Clean up here and report to your new mistress. I'm sure your skills in combat will prove useful as her head of guard. Watch her and report back." Carefully placing the glowing blade back on the tray, Aizen dismissed the two slaves and walked over to the third one who was carrying the folded white clothing and was visibly trembling with what he had just witnessed.

"I don't think I need to remind you, Grimmjow, that failure to comply will not be tolerated." Throwing the white uniform at the general, Aizen turned away after watching the clothing fall onto his bloodied back.

"After all, could you imagine how alone Nelliel would feel if you were to die?"

Snapping his eyes open Grimmjow turned his head towards Aizen, only to find that the king had vanished. The general recognized a threat when he heard one.

"Damn him!" he growled, outraged that he would dare to mention his lover. Grimmjow may have been willing to risk his own life for the Fifth Column but he wasn't about to gamble with Nel's.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach

Nelliel Tu Odelschwank, high slave and Minister of Weaponry to Aizen's arsenal, hugged the black cloak tighter to her frame as she slowly made her way down the long stairway. Los Noches's dungeons were always cold and dark, but visiting them at night was as terrifying as it was frigid. Everything was bathed in blackness, so much so that she could barely see her hand in front of her face. The risk of discovery, however, prevented her from bringing a candle.

Every muscle in her body was flexed. Her nerves were restless and every movement was carefully controlled. After Grimmjow' defection had become known, Nel had quickly fell out of favor with the palace staff and other slaves. It was forbidden to visit the dungeons without Lord Aizen's expressed permission. If she was found, the punishment would be sever. Her face could very well be marked as one of the damned or worse, she could be killed.

Grimmjow was worth it.

Very carefully the young woman used her hands to guide her as she leaned against the stone wall and descended further into the castle's cellar. She hadn't even reached the last step of the stairway when she heard his voice.

"Get out of here Nel! Dammit what are you doing here?"

"Grimmjow!" Nel gasped and quickly descended the last few steps before blindly racing into the cell block.

"I've been so worried!" she cried and though the darkness was blinding, somehow the young woman knew exactly which cell her lover was in and quickly scrambled over to him.

"I'd thought I'd never see you again," Nel's voice wobbled, suddenly thick with emotion as she knelt before the bars and reached a hand out to Grimmjow.

"Nel you can't be here. The guards will kill you if they find you here." Despite Grimmjow's sharp reprimand, Nel's spirit was soothed as soon as she felt Grimmjow's warm calloused hand engulf her own. She wanted to see his face so badly but the darkness made it impossible.

"The guards are in between shifts. They won't find me," she explained breathless. Her other hand reached up and search blindly until she found her lover's face. A sudden sob escaped her throat and Grimmjow felt his stomach tighten.

"It's true, isn't it?" Nel asked in a hushed voice.

"You defected," and though her voice was clean of any accusation, the sadness of it still had Grimmjow closing his eyes in guilt. He hadn't told her of his plan to join the Fifth Column. She knew nothing of how they had approached him six months ago or how he had spent the time since plotting to bring the King of Los Noches down.

"... I would have told you if I could," Grimmjow began to explain gruffly.

"but it was too dangerous. I didn't want to put you at risk." he finished, suddenly feeling like a bastard.

Before his defection, before the rebels had come to him - even before his promotion to Aizen's General, there had always been Nelliel. They had been brought into the palace together as freshly whelped slaves from the Eastern Coalition. Grimmjow had been caught and captured for petty theft when he was seven while Nel had inherited her slavery by birth. When Aizen had conquered their country, the young and healthy slaves and prisoners had all been annexed into Hueco Mundo.

Life as slave in Los Noches was terrifying and dangerous for them, but at least they had eachother. Nel was so smart and Grimmjow was strong. He always knew that they would be destined for greatness. Once he gained his freedom and been promoted by Aizen, Grimmjow had always planned to go back and buy Nelliel. Under Hueco Mundo's law slaves couldn't wed, but the free populace could.

'_When had that goal changed?'_ Grimmjow asked himself. When had he lost sight of the most important person to him?

"Oh Grimmjow," Nel lamented. Grimmjow spared a nervous glance at the stairway before quickly closed the distance between them and capturing her lips in a heated kiss, less her cries alert the guards. She obliged him willingly. When they finally broke apart both of them ached with longing. Nel brought her forehead to rest along the prison cell's bars, while Grimmjow forced himself to blink several times to recollect his thoughts.

"You need to run Nel. Go, leave this very night. Head south. I can arrange to have friends help you," Grimmjow began hurriedly.

Hearing his words, Nel stiffened and slowly lifted her head. Grimmjow continued earnestly,

"It's too late for me, but you can still get out."

Nel looked at him, horrified.

"The punishment for a slave to run is damnation or worse, death," she told him in a strangled whisper. Grimmjow scowled, hating the idea of Nel's face being marred like his. Still…

"It will only be a matter of time before Aizen demotes you because of me."

Despite being a woman, Nel was a very gifted strategist and combatant fighter. After serving years under Aizen's Senior Captain, Kaname Tosen, Nel had risen through the slave ranks to that of Weapons Minister. If not for her involvement with a traitor, Aizen would have probably promoted her to general in Grimmjow's stead. She would have been the best choice… and she would have been free.

The irony made Grimmjow sick to his stomach.

"I won't leave you!" Nelliel hissed.

"Listen, just listen. If he hasn't done it already, then it's only a matter of time. Do you really think Aizen will continue to allow the lover of a traitor to serve as the Minister of Weaponry?" Grimmjow demanded and then spat angrily at his feet.

"Leave tonight. Damn it. Where do you think you'll end up Nel? The labor fields or maybe the breeding house? What if he sells you?"

Nel shook her head frantically in denial. Grimmjow could not see her movement in the dark but her silence spoke volumes. She knew he was right.

The moment of silence was broken by the sound of the dungeon door opening. Nel and Grimmjow both looked up towards the stairs. Their time was up. The guards shift had changed and they were now making their rounds. She had to leave now or else risk being found.

"I won't leave without you," she told Grimmjow in a severe tone of finality before slipping unnoticed into the darkness.

The guards never suspected anything.

* * *

By dawn, Aizen found himself with a mild headache as he sat upon his marble white throne and overlooked the two subjects before him.

Gin's wine was more potent than he cared to admit. How that silver haired man managed to drink himself into a stupor every night and then carry out his duties every morning as the Master of Arms, was beyond him. If he had any less patience, Aizen would have put the dangerous snake out of his misery ages ago. Still, Aizen was indulgent; and Gin did have his uses. He'd let the traitor slither for now. It was always nice when they thought they were winning.

"Now, now. That's not polite. The King of Hueco Mundo didn't give you leave to rise yet," Gin smiled and yanked the spy down onto his knees by his hair. The spy, Tessai Tsukabishi, had served Aizen for more than two decades as a free man and was one if not possibly the palace's finest healers. It was a terrible waste.

Still, there were always other practitioners. Aizen was too amused with the concept of a rebel torturing another rebel in the name of The Fifth Column to keep a ruse he was already _aware_ of from being exposed. It was terrible delightful in its wickedness.

"There was this man in from Eastern Coalition that sold the finest shoes on this half of the world. Gold, silver, silk; everything he sold was of the highest quality. His trade made him quite wealthy. He was popular… and he was stubborn," Gin went on, circling the injured man. Aizen knew the game well. Gin had followed him since before his reign in Hueco Mundo had even begun, over a century ago. He along with Aizen were one of the last true immortals.

Of course in the end, there could only be one god.

"In fact, he was so stubborn that when he insulted the King of Hueco Mundo and refused to sell him his merchandise… well let' just say in the end, the man cut off his own feet as an apology and now he neither wears nor sells shoes," Gin continued and dealt a harsh blow to the rebel's back. Tessai winced but because his hand were bound behind his back, he was helpless to defend himself. Aizen chuckled.

"Let's see. What was that man's name? Oh, it escapes me," Gin smiled and pulled out his knife.

"Gin, enough." Aizen commanded and held up a hand. The Master of Arms quickly withdrew his knife and took a step back from the spy.

Aizen studied the Tessai carefully. The marble floor beneath him was painted in his traitorous blood. His warm brown skin was covered in sweat. One of his eyes was swollen shut and his nose was broken. Though most of the healer's black robes remained in tacked, Aizen knew that underneath there would be bruises and possibly even internal bleeding. Gin was not kind during the initial interrogation. Naturally, very little information had been gleaned.

It was tempting to keep the traitor alive and make him into a slave; he would be a living example of the results to any and all that opposed him. However, Aizen' instincts warned him that the healer was too dangerously entangled with the Fifth Column to live.

"Take him to the dungeons. Have the gallows prepared. On the morrow, at first light he'll hang," the king ordered. If all went accordingly, Tessai's death would draw out the others. The Rebels had a repeating habit of retrieving their own. The Fifth Column was becoming sloppy.

Bowing once, Gin signaled to two guards, Nnoitra Gilga and Tesra Lindocruz, to come and escort the rebel away. Noticing the dark haired guard, Aizen called or him to wait.

"A moment of your time, I have matters to discuss with you and Nelliel," the king told him before looking back to Gin.

"Have Nelliel sent in on your way out. Oh and summon Szayelaporro as well. I want to know how my dear niece is faring," he ordered.

Gin smiled.

"The plot thickens," he joked. Aizen smiled and nodded gracefully.

"I do love a good story."

Chuckling, the Master of Arms hulled Tessai to his feet and with Tesra's help escorted him out.

Aizen smiled wickedly as he watched them go. Gin was such a fine pawn. A traitor, but a fine pawn nevertheless.

His thoughts were interrupted when the heavy marble doors to the throne room were thrown unceremoniously open.

Aizen raised an eyebrow and watched expectantly as a tall blonde woman dressed in breeches and a ragged shirt burst threw the doors. A commoner.

"Lord Aizen, I have come to negotiate the release of my husband!" she called in a loud but even voice. Several guards rushed her but quickly found themselves overcome and dazed as she slipped through their defenses and dropped them like flies. Her movements were graceful and effective. She only stopped when Nnoitra and Nel apprehended her, the latter had chased after the blonde into the throne room.

Pinning her down with a knee in her back, Nel held the woman's arms while Nnoitra yanked the woman's head up by her hair in the same manner Gin had done to Tessai only moments ago.

The woman breathed deeply as she watched Hueco Mundo's king.

Aizen contemplated her silently. Finally he offered,

"You fought very well. Not many can dispose of so many of my guards at once." His voice which had been so pleasant at first, ended on a dark tone. The woman ignored him.

"I am Tier Harribel and I have come to negotiate the release of my husband, Coyote Stark. Your guard would not admit me so I admitted myself. "

"Silence," Nnoitra hissed and yanked on the woman's hair harder.

Aizen' brow furrowed as he tried to recall which person Tier was referring to. Under his law many offenders were enslaved and imprisoned. Still, the name did ring a vague bell…

"Ah yes, the deserter," he finally recalled.

"He was shot in the eye by a stray arrow during the rebel raid on the Inoue Clan and refused admittance to the infirmary on grounds of lack of space!" Tier interjected. Her brazen tone made it apparent that she did not believe the infirmary's excuse.

Aizen leaned back into his throne and folded his hand, his expression hooded. The infirmary had refused all admittance after Grimmjow had declared himself a traitor and Orihime Inoue had made her presence known. Both of them had been sedated and kept under guard in the infirmary less either escape.

"He returned home to treat his injury," the blonde finished.

"He's innocent," she added.

Aizen admired her boldness, but he argument was futile. The woman would be punished for her insolence but before he condemned her, he would refute her claim.

"Injury or no, the man swore an oath to me and then abandoned his station."

"He left because he was in no condition to serve," Tier argued. Aizen shook his head.

"He was in no condition to serve and yet he returned home on his own to feet and clear head," Aizen snapped. His voice that left no room for argument. Nnoitra and Nel both stiffened, recognizing the dangerous tone but Tier was oblivious.

"I have come to pay my husband's debt so that he can be released." Her words were once again even and controlled but the damage had already been done.

"I'm afraid that your husband's debts have already been paid. Under Hueco Mundo's law, he has sold himself into my household," Aizen began coolly. Tier sucked in a sharp breath.

"He has already been branded and sterilized for the Princess Orihime's service."

Aizen watched smugly as the blonde began to visibly tremble. Still… she was a hard person to read. Even now he could not determine if she was in shock or in rage. She was... interesting.

"Slavery. You mean for him to become a bed slave to the Princess's entourage," she accused. Aizen smiled endearingly at her. Harribel hung her head momentarily as she tried to collect her thoughts.

"...take me instead. Please, I beg of you." The blonde then tried her best to prostrate herself while still in the grip of the two guards. Aizen signaled to the guards and as one, they both released her.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. Hueco Mundo's law is perfectly clear when it comes to trespassers and terrorists." Aizen told her, his headache flaring once more. Impatiently, he waved and three more guards came and placed the blonde in shackles.

"As it so happens the princess is need of a captain of sorts to manage her guard and as it so happens I've been presented with the perfect candidate. Take Ms. Harribel to the Master of Slaves for immediate branding. He's going to have his work cut out with this one," he continued and gestured to the guards, who at his signal began to drag her away. Tier shook her head angrily but the chains about her wrist and legs strictly limited her movement and made it impossible to fight back.

"You can't do this," she told Aizen, enraged.

"The alternative would be your life, and then what would your husband say?" Aizen taunted.

Stealing a breath, Harribel composed herself. Aizen's word was law. He had won the round. She would have to be patient. There would be another time. All was not lost.

Dolefully, she let the guards lead her out.

"Look at it this way, now you and Stark can serve the princess together," the king called.

The door shut behind her.

Smiling pleasantly, Aizen turned to Nel and Nnoitra who had both wisely kept silent during the exchange.

"Now then," he began and straightened his robes. There was still the matter of who he would select to fill the role as a General in his army. The role Grimmjow had recently vacated when he had joined the rebels...

Muted noise drew Aizen's attention back to the doors before they once again were flung open, this time by the king's own niece Princess Orihime. Behind her, a flustered Szayelaporro followed.

Aizen shot the flamboyant healer a dark look and the man shrunk under his gaze. After her arrival into Los Noches, the princess had been placed under the healer's care with strict orders to keep her sedated until Aizen deemed otherwise.

Now the princess stood in his throne room, dressed in a long trained embroidered pink robe with a purple sash hastily tucked around her waist. Her long hair fell unchecked down her back and dark circles appeared under her eyes. She must have just awoken.

"My apologies Lord Aizen but she insisted," the healer began hastily only to be interrupted by the princess. She was angry.

"Where is my brother?" she demanded in a vexed, hoarse voice.

"Where is Sora?"


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach

Chapter 4

"_End it."_

As their journey neared its end, the White City known as Los Noches, grew ever larger on the horizon. The pale one, the one that had _given away_ his name, stared intently at the colossal structure.

"_End it." _Despite the blade's distance, it's voice was growing louder in his head. The adversary was close and the demon within him recognized Aizen's proximity. The dark instinct to kill throbbed in his head.

"Impressive, isn't it?" the cloaked figure asked obliviously, sparing Los Noches a glance before he dismounted from his steed. The pale one did not reply. It was the closest he had ever come to the city. Aizen with his immortality and his stolen power had set up wards that had prevented demons

_him _

from ever getting close. Now that he walked like a man those wards no longer applied. Now that he had a guise of a mortal and a purpose into the city, Aizen could not keep him out. Aizen would not see him for what he was.

"_End it." _And he would be made to do anything and everything to obey the curse.

Slowly, the pale one slid from his own mount. His companion had led him to a stream, just as promised where their horses could be watered and the two men could clean themselves up. The cloaked man had mentioned slavery and adjusted appearances; things that the pale one was not too keen on.

But then again those things did not matter.

Nothing mattered.

He was already enslaved.

Moving towards the water, the pale one found himself leaning down and cupping a handful of the clean substance to splash on his face. How long had it been since he had needed substance to eat or drink? He couldn't remember.

"Ulquiorra," the cloaked man called out but the pale one ignored him. _The one who cries_. He wasn't too keen on that name either. He did not have tears. Only scars.

The sound of a knife being drawn from its sheath drew his green eyes towards his companion. The cloaked man held out a small knife in one hand and a small glass bottle in the other hand. The bottle was full of something dark.

"I'm going to have to administer that tattoo now," the cloaked man explain apologetically. The pale one looked away but not before the glint of the sun caught the hilt of his own blade that the cloaked one had stolen. He needed to retrieve the blade. It had taken blood and sacrifice and _centuries _to forge the weapon from _inside_ of his soul. He wasn't sure how long he could hold his current form without it and to revert back without fulfilling the curse...

"_End it," _the demon hissed and he was helpless to resist his foul master's voice.

Bowing his head in acquiescence, the pale one stood and waited for his companion to approach.

"All slaves are numbered with tattoos. Most household units range no higher than thirteen," the cloaked man explained patiently. Silently he gestured for Ulquiorra to remove his upper clothing and through empty submission, he complied. None of it really mattered anyway.

The sound of clothing hitting Hueco Mundo's sand rang louder than usual in his ears. The pale one waited for his companion to say something about the _hole_. It was unnatural. It was dark. It was inevitable. An awkward silence followed before the cloaked one began to laugh quietly.

"You really are pale," the cloaked man joked and the pale one realized that_ he could not see the curse. _It shouldn't have been a only saw what they wanted to see.

"Please sit."

The pale one silently complied, watching blankly as his companion started a fire and held the knife's blade over it until the metal grew a bright orange in color.

"Unfortunately for us 'Lord' Aizen does not keep a personal unit of slaves, only those guard and combat status," the cloaked one continued after a moment. The pale one watched intently as his companion took the glass bottle and poured a small amount of the dark liquid onto the tip of the blade. Ink.

"His generals of course have their own sets of slaves but it would be impossible to smuggle you in without their notice or consent. Fortunately, through a spectacular turn of events Aizen has acquired a new guest and I know for a fact that her slaves have yet to be installed to her."

Turning the blade towards the pale one, the cloaked man paused.

"I'm sorry Ulquiorra," was all he said to before the heat carved it's way into the pale one's left pectoral.

The pain was unpleasant but not unbearable. The pale one was forced to remember a different time and a different branding.

_A cold darkness so deep and painful sunk into his bones and the ice of it absolutely burned. Tears that were not tears but blood slipped down his cheeks and branded his skin and the foreign substance carved it's way inside._

"_This is my covenant to you," the demon whispered somewhere inside of his head and the place that had held his heart melted out and no matter how loud he screamed and begged and cried for it's return, it did not come back. The demon's consolences and promises of vengeance could not quite drowned out the memory of his pain._

When it was finished the cloaked man stepped back to admire his work.

"The number four," he breathed.

Blinking, green eyes observed silently the dark, gothic black number on his skin. The aesthetic completely bypassed his attention while he focused on the uprooted flesh inflamed by the knife. He was not recovering. He was not regenerating. The curse... had not rejected the mortal marking.

All was silent as the pale one realized that the demon _wanted_ this.

"_Anything to end it. You will end it." _The blade would bathe in Aizen's blood.

So absorbed in his thoughts, that the pale one failed to recognize a third party's approach as a lone figure rode swiftly towards them on a powerful horse.

Frowning the cloaked one quickly put out the fire and belted his knife only to replace it with the long blade of a sword. The pale one watched as his companion debated with himself over giving the other's weapon back to him.

It mattered little though, for the next moment the newcomer was upon them. Dressed in a thick, heavy tan tunic and matching closed off baggy leggings and coated in a hooded head wrapping, the shapeless person's clothing made it difficult to locate any possible weapons they carried.

"Peace!" the person cried suddenly and the pale one realized that their company was female. The cloaked figure slowly sheathed his blade while the newcomer flung off her headgear to reveal a tall woman with tan skin and purple hued hair.

"Peace," the cloaked man breathed out a sigh of relief just as the female ran towards them. Laughing softly, she launched herself into towards the cloaked one and was immediately wrapped into his arm.

"It's been a long time," the female greeted affectionately. The cloaked man reached down and kissed her brow. The pale one watched silently, wondering at the woman's appearance and if she bore any importance of relation to his adversary.

"It has been a long time, but now is neither the time or place for that" the cloak man gently rebuked the woman.

"Were you followed?" he continued in a more serious manner. The tan woman frowned and stepped out of his embrace.

"Of course not -"

"-why would you make such a risk? There are other channels to be used if you wanted to contact the Fifth Column," the cloaked man continued. The tan woman's eyes narrowed and the gold in them reminded Ulquiorra of his own demon.

As if hearing his thoughts, the tan woman turned to him noticing him for the first time. A strained silence followed.

"It's alright. He's with the resistance. His name is Ulquiorra," the cloaked man explained. The woman raised her eyebrow in question but after a moment, the pale man mentally dismissed her.

"The other channels take too long. I needed to deliver this as news as quickly as possible."

"You couldn't have known that I would be returning-"

"-Tessai has been exposed and captured," the woman interrupted in a rush. The name meant nothing to the pale one but it was obvious that his companion was affected by the news.

"That can't be," he choked out after a moment. The tan woman's eyes blazed in sympathy.

"His execution is scheduled for tomorrow at dawn. I tried to have Gin release him into the slaver's sale markets for retrieval, but that snake has been avoiding me."

"Do not go to him, Yoru- do not go to Gin. Do you understand me? After he exposed Grimmjow, the Fifth Column no longer considers him a reliable asset. He'll turn on you just like he did the former general," the cloaked man told her in a stern voice. The purpled haired female frowned.

"But then how are we going to rescue Tessai? I can't compromise my rebel cell by publicly acting against Aizen," she reminded her companion. The cloaked man turned towards his pale companion.

"This changes things," he stated simply. The pale man watched unprepared, as his companion disappeared with inhuman speed before his very eyes. A sharp blow to the back of his head followed.

_Immortal Magic, _he realized too late. The demon within him howled in outrage before everything went dark.

* * *

"Where is Sora?" Orihime demanded.

Aizen raised an eyebrow at the princess's upheaved appearance. Far from the small, broken girl that had first approached him, there was a fire about his niece that had not been there before. Despite the sallow cheek bones and heavy shadows under her eyes that indicated her fatigue, she truly was quite beautiful.

_Such passion, _he thought.

Staring into her grey eyes, Aizen saw another person in another place standing in her stead.

"_Get out!" Yamamoto, Aizen's oldest brother, growled at him. He stood before him not as he had last appeared with his aging, wrinkled face and bald head and elongated beared; but as an immortal youth with blazing brownish red hair and silver eyes and high cheek bones._

"_Brother, I'm doing you a favor. If you let this," at that Aizen looked down in disdain at the cowering mortal at his feet. Long brown, scraggly hair and pasty skin, the female's hunched posture did little to conceal the growing bulge in her belly. _

"_mortal carry to term, your power will deplete into the bloodlines. You'll become like them," Aizen argued. A flash of metal was his only warning before Yamamoto was baring his sword at him. Aizen was only just able to defend himself._

"_I said get out!"_

"_Is that what you want brother? To die?"_

"_The Immortal Wars are over. The demons are gone. We are no longer needed. Put your petty ambitions to rest and get out!" Yamamoto all but roared at him. Aizen had no choice but to concede. Out of all of his siblings, Yamamoto was the most powerful. In his present state, he could not defeat him._

A century later, and Aizen could almost feel his brother's power seeping out of the young woman before him. It was a shame that she was not born into the first generation of immortals. She would have been a force to be reckoned with. He could almost see her in black robes with a blade at her side...

Unfortunately, with three generations of mortal taint in her blood, she had no practical use beyond her royal position.

"Where is my brother!? I must know!" she continued to demand.

Letting his irritation be known, Aizen released a small portion of his power and watched in satisfaction as the princess trembled before falling to her knees.

At once, his palace physician, Szayelaporro, came forward to catch her.

"My lady, you need rest," he admonished softly. He moved to pick her up only for her to struggle out of his arms.

"No! Please!" Turning back to Aizen she all but crawled towards his throne. In front of her Nel and Nnoitra shifted restlessly, waiting for their master's command.

Maintaining his frown, Aizen fixed his niece with a stern frown.

"You must listen to the healer, Orihime. This audacious behavior is unbecoming of a _queen_ and detrimental to your health," he scolded, forcing enough control into his tone to keep from frightening her. _If she only knew who she was kneeling to, she would run in the other direction. _

Crawling towards his throne, Orihime reached out a trembling hand and clutched at her uncle's silk clad ankle.

"I need to find my brother, uncle. You promised." A tearful, snot faced child looked up at him and Aizen felt his patience grow dangerously low. He was the ruler of Hueco Mundo, the last true immortal: a god among men. Who was this little girl to question him?

Clearing his throat, Aizen shuffled his foot away from her and stood.

"Perhaps you're right. I can see now that your spirit will not rest until you see him." Orihime hiccuped and looked at him with a mixture of confusion and relief.

"Y-you promised. I can see him now?" she asked hesitantly. Aizen frowned at her disrespect. No one questioned his word. It was law. Promises were an insult to him. No one defied him.

"Of course," he told her smoothly and gestured to Nelliel and Nnoitra.

"Bring Prince Sora to the throne room at once," he ordered and not a moment later the two left to comply. Szayelaporro shifted restlessly behind the princess and brought him back under Aizen's attention, reminding the sovereign of his early failure to keep the princess contained and sedated.

"My lord it wasn't my fault-" the pink haired man began only to be cut off.

"Silence," Aizen ordered darkly. The healer trembled but wisely closed his mouth.

Sniffing, Orihime quietly rose from hands and knees. Anxiety wafted off of her and quietly she wrung her hands together. Aizen wonder if he had pushed too hard, if she had began to realize the danger she was in; but no - she was anxious to see her brother.

"What did you mean by queen?" she asked him softly. Aizen smirked but did not look directly at her.

"What?" His innocent questioned mocked in a teasing tone. Orihime sucked in a soft breath and fought to compose herself.

"You said that my behaviour was 'unbecoming of queen.' What did you mean by that?" she asked and there was true uncertainty in her voice.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked in a sly tone. Orihime was saved from answering when the guards abruptly returned and slowly shuffled into the room.

Aizen watched the princess's face as it turned from excitement, to confusion, and then finally fear. She knew something was wrong.

Casually, Aizen strolled over to the guards as Nnoitra came in first, his face carefully blank, carrying the front end of a sheet-covered pallet with Nelliel behind carrying the backend. His eyes briefly scanned over the scene before him before he turned back to Orihime and bowed graciously.

"May I present his esteemed highness and heir to the Inoue lands and kingdom, Prince Sora Inoue." Without preamble, Aizen ripped the sheet away.

A broken gasp immediately followed.

Aizen watched with hooded eyes as his niece began to tremble.

One step. Two Steps. Three steps. Five. Ten.

Then she was suddenly before her brother.

A soft whimper escaped her lips. She began to tremble.

"No," a choked cry escaped her lips.

Aizen watched in satisfaction as the princess's grey eyes reflected the broken, burned remains of her older brother. Blackened, bent and shriveled, Prince Sora's body was twisted in harsh angles. A wrist and hip rose in a twisted fashion while the neck strained permanently in an unnatural position. One knee was bent while the other was tilted to its side. The top of his head, where hair surely once had grown was now chapped with horrored colors of angry red and waxy brown. The facial features were melted, burned beyond recognition. It was very clear that the prince had not died a peaceful death.

"Sora," Orihime croaked and reached out a shaky hand to her brother before quickly snatching it away.

"No," she whispered.

"NO!" she wailed again and shook her head wildly in denial even as her eyes remained fastened on her brother. Shakily, she took a step backwards and then another. Her chest quivered in distress and Aizen quickly signaled to Nelliel. The woman silently moved to stand behind her.

Gasping, Orihime's trembling grew frantic. Her heart simply couldn't take the sudden stress. Trying to take one more breath, her eyes suddenly rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed into Nel's awaiting arms. Without waiting for permission, the woman quickly dismissed herself and carried the princess away. Szayelaporro nervously followed behind her.

A thick silence followed. Nnoitra gave his sovereign a measured look before his face broke out in a wicked smile. Leisurely, he went over to the prince's corpse and briskly re-covered it with a sheet before casually throwing the stiff remains over his shoulder and slinking out.

"Long live the prince," Aizen hailed to the silent room.

* * *

**A/N: OMG it's been forever since I updated! I just want to send out a heartfelt thank you to all the people who favorited, followed, and reviewed this story. Your encouragement and support means alot to me. Hope everyone likes this chapter. Please excuse the little grammar mistakes in this and previous chapters. I don't have a beta at the moment.**

**On another note, a lot of people have been asking when Orihime and Ulquiorra are finally going to meet: all I can say is be patient. It's a slow burn… More updates to come in the next few months. I have more courthouse appearances in the morning. Wish me luck X_X**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach

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**Warning: this chapter is gruesome**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

_The thick scent of death and smoke hung heavy in the air. His land, his home, his family were in flames. Choking back bile, he watched one of his horses scream in pain, running frantically unchecked as it strived to escape the flames that encompassed it. Moments later the poor creature was ensnared by a vile Adjuchas in passing who quickly wrapped a beastly arm around it's neck and began to pull. Just as the tendons broke, a black robed woman speared the demon in two with a gleaming blade._

_The Immortal Wars had damned them all._

_There was carnage everywhere. The demons were slowly losing but not without raising hell first._

_Neither demon nor Immortal, the humans had suffered the most in the crossfire as the conflict was taken to Earth._

"_You promised!" an unearthly howl shrieked._

_Crawling on his belly, the human had only moments to hide himself amidst the bloody remains of his kin before a figure in pristine white strode by._

"_Lord Aizen you promised!" the wretched voice continued. _

_Trembling, the human watched as a horde of demon crept after the white figure. Grotesque things with filthy bodies in all twisted shapes and sizes. Protruding jawlines, external spines, hideous faces, sunken eyes… they were disgusting. _

"_You are our god!"_

"_This war was for you."_

"_You promised us freedom!"_

_More voices and snarls chimed in only for them all to be silenced by a single swiped of a sword._

"_I was never your god. I'm an immortal," the white clad figure - Aizen - sneered._

_Hatred burned behind green eyes as Aizen strode through the broken corpse of a little human girl. This Aizen and his demons and Immortals had destroyed everything. They had no regard for the humans or the sanctity of life. _

_Now there was no one left._

_His vision blurred just as a cold, clawed hand encompassed his arm. Ripping him around, green eyes met with inhuman yellow irises, encased in black sclera. _

"_Human," the thing snarled. It looked like a wolf with it's sharp teeth and canine body slicked black and lacking fur. The face was all wrong though, encased in a pale gray mask ,the snout was elongated unnaturally and the ears looked more like horns…_

"_Your hatred is loud. You desire vengeance," the thing told him, gasping. The human gaped, only vaguely registering that the demon was injured. There was a bloody spot of impossible blackness gaping from a wound in it's chest and out of it's mouth icor spewered. _

_The human might have asked what the demon wanted and the demon might have responded in kind and asked for a name as well… but that answer was lost to the ages._

He awoke to a splitting headache. It was the most pain he had felt in decades, centuries probably. Blinking deep green emerald eyes, the silent one found himself lying belly first over his companion's horse with his wrists tied. The voice of the cloaked figure could be heard in the distance, but he could not be immediately seen.

Where was he? Why was he here? Who was he?

Green eyes blinked again as he took in his surroundings. Night had long since fallen. The moon seemed to be lost behind thick clouding, making the low torchlight around him the only source of illumination. Memory came back to him in bits and pieces.

He was in some sort of market. The small shops around him seemed to strengthen his theory. Some were permanent fixtures with wooden posts and straw roofs while others were clearly temporary sights of sales with pitched tents accompanied by small tables in front of them. The merchandise varied from elaborate tapestries and exotic silks to metalwork and foreign foods.

That was right, he was being sold into his enemies household. His enemy was a man. No - an immortal called Aizen guised as a man. There was a curse that had to be completed. His companion had hit him. That was whi his head hurt. He was Murcielago - no that was the demon's name.

His name was…

"... name is Ulquiorra," his companion's voice grew louder. A moment later, he felt himself being pulled unceremoniously off of the horse and onto his feet. Frowning, he remained silent as the cloaked figure and some flamboyant man in heavily painted makeup studied him.

"Fascinating," the man in makeup muttered and it was clear from is voice that he found the silent one anything but fascinating. Remaining still, Ulquiorra allowed the man to open his coat and run one of his painted, manicured fingers up his pale chest and over the black inked number branded onto his skin, while he plainly examined the paint man in return.

Wearing an elaborate golden head dress that fanned out like a crown, it framed his face thinly and trailed down to his chin on both sides where it formed a rather obnoxious little beard. The man's beady eyes were golden and his entire face was paint black with thin white vertical stripes that started from the top of his crown all the way to his collar bone where they disappeared under his majestic purple, blue and gold robes.

"Come on Mayuri, you must admit he's quite a deal for a bed slave. Already sterilized and mute, you can't beat such an offer," the cloaked man cajoled.

Something old and very sharp should have rose to the surface of Ulquiorra's mind at the words 'bed slave' and 'sterilized'. The remnants of the something he had once been should have cried out bitterly at such derogatory terms from the darkest depths of his soul, but the beast within had long since smothered it all.

_Finish it._

Feeling his talons beginning to elongate, the pale one quickly slid his hands into his pocket. With the painted man - Mayuri - scrutinizing him, he had no luxury to look for his blade, but it's absence was keenly felt. Without its binding power in his grasp, the curse would never be fulfilled and he would be doomed to revert back into the mindless thing he had become after first merging with the demon that had first called itself Murcielago.

The marks on his face burned maddeningly and he could almost smell the old blood.

"As profitable he may be, I already have a number four assigned to the princess," Mayuri explained. Waving a hand towards a distant shop, Ulquiorra noticed right away it's stone walls and high platform. A large, wooden post was staked into the ground beside it with a small number of people shackled to it.

One of them was a man with dark, shaggy brown hair and an eye patch covering his left eye. It was hard to tell how tall the man was as he sat chained to the post behind him, but he was obvious lean and the muscles on his arms and chest made him look rather rugged. His open coat revealed the fresh application of a tattoo with the number four on it.

"And as you can see," Mayuri continued.

"_he_ doesn't have the marking of a runaway slave on his face." Turning, he pointed to Ulquiorra's tear marks that had somehow darkened considerably.

* * *

The room was shrouded in darkness, save for the four torches that each aligned a wall and the small candle sitting on the lone wooden table near the door. Though immaculately clean and vaguely smelling of lye and herbs, the old cobblestone walls gave the room and eerily dark and dirty look. Four beds aligned the far wall, all with folded wool sheets, save for the last one which was being occupied by a young woman.

Nelliel watched somberly as Aizen's doctor, Szayelaporro Granz, rested a cloth over Princess Orihime's cheeks. The girl had not roused once since fainting in the throne room, well over half of a day ago.

"Shouldn't she have awoken? Why are there such dark circles under her eyes if you have had her sedated for the past several days?" Nel demanded. Despite the night's darkness and the poor lighting from waning candles and torches, the girl's haggard features were very much apparent.

"She's exhausted," the pink haired doctor explained. Nel watched silently as the man slid an IV into the girl's arm.

"that combined with dehydration and the recent trauma and stress, has shocked her system." Turning, Nel held in a grimace as the doctor turned to her. Despite his somber words, there was a barely restrained grin on his face and strange twinkle in his eye that the firelight around them only seemed to enhance.

"I hope you understand that I had nothing to do with her previous awakening, and trespassing upon Lord Aizen's throne room. My orders were to keep her subdued."

Nel nodded, and turned her gaze back to the pale princess if only to escape the twisted gaze of the doctor. Mentally she noted how thin the princess appeared.

"Then it is a testament to her strength that she awoke at all."

Granz nodded.

"Yes, it's a shame that Lord Aizen wants her whole, otherwise I would be inclined to open her up and study the phenomena myself." Nelliel understood the doctor's meaning all too well. The man enjoyed people's pain and discomfort and was fascinated when others were put into physical duress.

"A shame indeed," new slithery voice interrupted.

Nel felt her muscles tense as she watched Nnoitra duck under the archway of the medical room before boldly stepping in. Unlike the doctor, Nnoitra not only enjoyed other's pain but also glutton on the more perverse and violent acts of the flesh. Without Aizen's instruction, the man was incredibly disturbed and violent.

In the poor lighting his shadowed presence was terribly foreboding.

Granz pushed his glasses up his nose in an act that Nel knew was to hide his own discomfort.

"Ah, an unexpected visitor. Well this is -"

Nnoitra turned and frowned at Granz.

"Leave us," he told the doctor coldly. When Szayelaporro took too long in responding, Nnoitra withdrew his double bladed scythe from his back and pointed it menacingly at the doctor's throat.

"I said leave us."

Nel closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the sound of the scythe was dropped carelessly into the embodiment of the were suppose to be forbidden in the medical rooms. It would just be typical of Nnoitra to disregard such a rule. As if his volatile mind wasn't dangerous enough.

Granz all but scurried from the room.

When Nel opened her eyes, she was discerned to see that Nnoitra had taken several steps closer to her and was leering down at her with positively gleeful smile. In one of his hand he held a sharp blade.

"What are you doing?" Nel demanded.

A moment later, she found herself pushed first onto one of Granz spare medical cots with Nnoitra pinning her down from behind. She immediately began to thrash.

"It seems congratulations are in order," Nnoitra told her as he struggled to bring her arms and legs under control. Grunting, he ended up straddling her legs and using his weight to hold them down while her arms were pushed up far above her head and locked together in one of Nnoitra's much bigger ones.

Nel cursed at him, only for him to push her head down and smother her with the fabric beneath her.

"Lord Aizen has promoted me to the status of General. Isn't that wonderful?" Nnoitra leered. At his words, Nel stifled a pang in her chest. The title of general was one she had been striving for her whole life. It had been her one chance at freedom, as Aizen's aw dictated his generals follow him for loyalty not slavery. It was something that she and Grimmjow had wanted more than anything. All the years of their silent pain and horrific sacrifices had been in preparation for gaining their freedom and the power of a general to do something with it….

It meant nothing now.

"That was Grimmjow's old job, wasn't it?" Nnoitra continued, oblivious.

"Rumor has it you were his lover? Is that true Nelliel? Now that I'm general, will you be my lover as well?" he crooned and leaned down to lick the shell of her ear.

At his words Nel began to tremble, but once his tongue reached her, her struggling began anew. Ripping one of her arms out of his grasp, she twisted around swiftly and managed to land a decent punch to the man's face before he once again restrained her. To her disgust, instead of angering him, her fighting spirit only seemed to egg him on.

Laughing, Nnoitra took delight in her torment and waited until she began to struggle again before he began to rip at the white material of her shirt.

"Stop!" she demanded. The cool air on her exposed back made her unintentionally shiver. Jerking her head to the side, she caught the brief glimmer of Nnoitra's knife flickering in the candlelight before he pinned her head back down and finished completely removing her shirt. A moment of tense silence followed.

"If it were up to me I would buy you myself, but Lord Aizen has other plans for you," he told her in a very soft but serious tone. Then his fingers were very gently tracing up her tattoo of the number '8' that she had been assigned once he had become Kaname Tousen's slave.

The moment ended when his fingers were replaced with a blade.

"Say goodbye to your days as Weapon's Minister. Lord Aizen is reassigning you to the pet princess's entourage." He grinned as the blade sunk into the ink and he began to _peel_. Nel couldn't hold back her scream even as she did everything in her power to fight the blade. Miraculously, her skill and desperation made it possible for her to shirk him off long enough for her to leap across the room.

Nnoitra was undeterred.

"Where do you think you're going _slave_? This was Lord Aizen's orders," he condescended. He hungrily watched as Nel's posture slumped in defeat. Her skin glowed in the dim light of the night's torches. Though shadows kept the exposed parts of her body that he wanted to see obscured, he found the sight of her surrender positively delicious.

"Lord Aizen's orders?" she asked in a whisper, before dully walking towards him.

Nnoitra's smile was so wide that his face began to hurt as he watched her stop directly in front of him.

"It's time to make that '8' and a pretty '3'," he told her and pulled her forward by the wrist.

Beyond them, the princess slept on oblivious.

* * *

"What were you thinking Tier - taking on Aizen's guards all by yourself?" Stark asked harshly. The sound of metal clanked harshly in the night as he tugged on his chains in irritation. Tier felt herself shift as well, but before she could respond, the slave that stood between them in the link of chains growled.

"Will you keep it down? I want to sleep sometime tonight!"

She was a very pretty slave with curvaceous figure and enchanting dark eyes and wavy, dark silk hair. Tier thought her name was Cirucci and while she appeared to be very beautiful on the outside it was quickly becoming clear that she was a nuisance on the inside. Thankfully, the slave on Tier's other side was a mute man with head that had been knocked silly one too many times and hed no interest in his current whereabouts.

"Besides, it's not like anything you say matters anymore. You're old lives are gone. Your slaves now," Carucci continued haughtily.

Tier frowned and yanked hard on her end of the chain, causing the shorter slave to squeak once in alarm as she was forced to adjust her stance to keep from falling over.

"Hey!" she hissed.

"Tier leave her alone," Stark sighed from Cirucci's other side.

"I wasn't going to leave you. This isn't right and you know it," the blonde argued.

"Well, will be together now," Stark told her after a moment, his subdued voice making it impossible to know if he was being sarcastic or not.

"Yeah, as slaves," Cirucci butted in. Tier yanked on her chain again and was thankfully rewarded with silence.

"... and as you can see, he doesn't have the markings of a runaway slave on his face," the Master Auctioneer, Mayuri Kurotsuchi's voice was heard. As a whole, all of the slaves chained to the post turned and watch the vain man converse with a hooded figure and a pale, beautiful man beside him. Not much could be learned from the former, but the pale man beside him was obviously a slave.

"Look, he has the same number as you do," Tier whispered as she squinted at the man before her.

"Tier, it's too dark to see," Stark sighed again.

"No, I'm certain. The Master Auctioneer just lifted his coat. It says the number '4'," she breathed excitedly.

Stark strained to see but by then the Auctioneer was turning them away.

"It doesn't mean anything," Stark told her after a moment. Tier sighed before falling silent as Mayuri returned and inspected them all one more time. He didn't say anything to them, but it was obvious that tomorrow they would be turned over to their new owner - Lord Aizen's niece.

The Master Auctioneer inspected them all closely and once satisfied turned in for the night.

Though it was uncomfortable, Tier had quickly learned to keep her protests and personal opinion to herself, and so said nothing when she and the rest of the slaves were left chained to the post, alone in the dark.

"It meant everything," Tier finally spoke, once she was satisfied that the Auctioneer wouldn't return. Cirucci snorted once but blessedly remained silent.

"What's done is done. The only thing left to do now is make the best of it," Stark replied in resignation.

"Make the best of another woman bedding my husband for the rest of our lives?" Tier hissed.

"The number four makes you a bed slave. Everyone knows that," Cirucci added unhelpfully.

"Ask anything else of me - anything; but don't ask me to make the best of my husband sharing his flesh with another woman. Anything but that," Tier murmured, her teal eyes distant.

"Anything?" a new voice drawled. Looking up, Tier was startled when she saw the hooded figure and the pale man standing over her.

"What is this?" Cirucci demanded and tried to stand.

"Who are you?" Stark demanded.

The hooded person bowed.

"Madam, you said anything did you not?" he asked. Tier blinked but before she could answer, the hooded man was walking over to Stark's manacles and opening them.

"I'm here to take you up on that bargain," he told her cheerfully.

"They're thieves. He's going to steal us," Cirucci murmured before turning to the direction that Mayuri had retired to.

"Master Auctioneer!" she cried only for her voice to be muffled. A gurgle followed and then a sick crunch and even without the light Tier knew that the slave's neck had been her surprise however, it was not the cloaked man that had killed Cirucci, rather it was the pale one. Tier shivered when she studied his blank face. His eyes glowed an eerie yellow in the darkness.

He looked so empty.

"They're rebels," Stark accused as the hooded man opened one of his manacles and started on the second.

"Can you really help my husband?" Tier demanded anxiously.

"Of course!" the hooded one told her in a quiet but happy voice.

"I'm not going anywhere with them, Tier. As a member of Lord Aizen's army, it's my duty -"

"Lord Aizen and his army turned their back on you the moment that you lost your eye, or have you forgotten that he was the one that sold you in the first place?" the blonde interrupted heatedly. Realizing she had raised her voice, Tier quickly fell silent.

"Please go with them," Tier told Stark as his last manacle was opened.

"_Alright Ulquiorra, it's your turn,"_ the cloaked man told the pale one.

Tier was vaguely aware of Ulquiorra stepping into the vacant chains just as Stark stepped before her.

"I won't leave you. Especially for some rebels," he told her and gently touched her face. He was a soldier through and through.

"It's just for a little while," she told him and there was a moment that she was sure she would cry. They both knew that her words were lies.

"_I can't let you have the blade back yet. Slaves don't have weapons. You'll have to be patient," _the cloaked man's voice whispered in the background. The blonde did her best to ignore them.

Stark rested his head against hers and they both closed their eyes.

"No goodbyes," Tier told him, and pushed him away.

"No goodbyes," her husband echoed and spared her one last glance before taking off into the night. It quickly became clear that Stark had no interest in leaving with the hooded man, who was still quietly speaking to his pale companion.

"_Find the princess, win her good graces and await further instructions."_

* * *

**AN: What do ya know - I've managed to come back to this one. Not sure how that happened, but for anyone out there who is still interested in this old story, hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach

Orihime woke to sunlight streaming through the small slit of windows of the infirmary and a hand a small, cool hand clamped around her mouth and another pinning her shoulder to the medical cot she was resting on.

"Please don't scream," a feminine voice whispered urgently. Orihime's loud response was incredibly muffled. Wide eyed, the princess turned to find a young women, roughly her own age with short black hair and fiery eyes, hovering over her with a determined look on her face. She was dressed in an unremarkable shift and slacks, both colored a faded green. She was healthy and clean, but the callouses on her hands told of a life of physical labor, if not hardship.

"I'm with the Fifth Column. Your cousin Ichigo sent me," the girl explained in a hushed tone and pressed harder to restrain the princess. Orihime shook her head once, and winced slightly from the effort. The girl was obviously mistaken. Her cousin Ichigo, the once Prince of the Green Valley had been declared dead by Aizen five years ago along with the rest of his immediate family; the cause was a deadly plague.

"If I let you go, you can't call for help. Do you understand?" the girl continued on. She enunciated her question slowly as Orihime's focus had drifted. Despite her calm speech, the rebel was obviously jumpy as her eyes kept darting anxiously around the medical room, as if searching for a hidden threat.

Orihime winced slightly as the girl's grip grew ever stronger but somehow found herself responding with a nod of her head.

Visibly relaxing, the rebel girl's grip slackened considerably.

"Good, I'm going to let you go now," she told her before stepping away. Orihime winced once more from the painful grip withdrawing, before she opened her mouth experimentally and stretched her jaw.

"Sorry about that," the rebel apologized and reached distractedly into her pocket. Orihime smiled.

"Princess, are you awake?" a new voice called. A moment later Nel walked in followed closely by Szayelaporro. Startled, the rebel ripped her hand out of her pocket and quickly stood.

Everyone in the room tensed.

"An intruder!" Szayelaporro cried.

"GUARDS!"

Beside him, Nel silently sprang. As Kaname Tousen's former Weapons Minister, her body was agile and fit and it only took one leap for her to land on top of Orihime's medical caught.

Though she was unhurt from the landing, Orihime still shrieked in surprise.

Startled, Nel turned to the princess, only for the rebel girl to take that opportunity to push Nel off of the bed and retreat. Pushing passed the pink haired doctor, she escaped out of the very door that they had just walked through.

"Are you hurt?" Nel asked the princess as she sprang swiftly to her feet.

Orihime gripped the blanket around her and slowly pulled it closer while she shook her head in mute negativity.

"Good. You both stay here," Nel ordered her and Szayelaporro before chasing after the intruder.

Wide eyed, Orihime waited until Nel left and the doctor was distracted before looking down at the blankets. The rebel girl had slipped flimsy piece of _something_ into her bed.

* * *

Tatsuki ran hurriedly down the corridor. The palace walls of Los Noches were all stark white and the black macabre paintings and tapestries were nearly identical. If she hadn't memorized the the layout beforehand, she could have easily become lost.

That slave woman had wasted no time in sounding the alarm. The palace bells had already begun to ring. Five consecutive rings meant an intruder. _One._ Tatsuki forced her legs to move faster. _Two._ Ducking around the corner, she barely missed a group of palace guards as they hurried down the direction she had just come from. _Three. _She waited until they were out of earshot before springing into action. _Four_ \- the ringing abruptly ceased.

Gulping in air, Tatsuki tensed when she felt a sharp blade suddenly press into her shoulder blades.

"Going somewhere?" a cheerful voice drawled.

Swallowing, Tatsuki forced herself to relax and fight the reflex to turn around and face the danger head on.

She could picture the man well enough in her head. Slightly pale with silver hair and a maddening smile. Rukia had once called him a snake in the grass. For all his guile and slithering, he didn't seem to have a heart.

"Hello Gin," she forced herself to calmly respond. The man was supposedly an agent for the rebellion, but as of late he was becoming more and more unreliable as he chased after his own vendetta. As if reading her thoughts, Gin pressed the blade harder into Tatsuki's back.

"You couldn't have picked a worse time to visit the princess," Gin told her. Tatsuki shrugged.

"I wonder what the Fifth Column will do if Aizen suspects, the princess is in league with the rebellion," he mused. Tatsuki frowned and tried to turn then, only for the blade to tear pointedly through the fabric of her clothing.

"Aizen won't kill her - she's a princess and heir to the Inoue crown. He needs her," Tatsuki argued. Gin tisked and quickly withdrew his blade.

"I suggest you think long and hard about whose head the crown will rest on if the princess is dead," Gin told her in a jovial voice before giving her a harsh shove, contradictory to his pleasant demeanor.

"Run along now."

Biting back an angry retort, Tatsuki quickly regained her balance and turned around only to find the palace corridor empty. The silver haired man had disappeared.

* * *

The sound of the palace bells ringing had Uryu groaning.

"Tatsuki failed," he muttered miserably. In his mind he could already picture Aizen's thugs capturing her. As a rebel there would be no leniency. As if reading his mind, Rukia put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Shhh. We're not here for Tatsuki," Yoruichi reminded them.

All three of them ducked behind a wooden wagon as three guards ran by. Uryu continued to count the bells in his head.

Once the coast was clear, they quickly stood up. The bells abruptly ceased. Rukia and Uryu simultaneously looked up at each other in disbelief.

"Four?" Rukia questioned.

"What does four mean?" Uryu echoed.

"Now's our chance! Make sure your hoods stay up and your face is hidden," Yoruichi ordered. Before either of them could protest, she grabbed them by their wrists and pulled them into the noisy crowd that had gathered in front of the white palace's balcony.

The white balcony stood four meters above the market, directly above the palace's main entrance. The alabaster stone was carved from the purest marble, with large, dominating spikes serving as a perimeter and guard rail around the grand structure. Aizen often used it to make royal announcements, and condemned prisoners to death.

Rukia pulled her green cloak tighter to her, gripping the hood securely in her hand.

"Tatsuki can take care of herself. The bell rang four times, the signal of a palace slave escaping," Yoruichi continued after a moment, this time in a much kinder voice.

"We'll find her after, but right now I need you both to focus on the task at hand."

"We only get one shot at this," Rukia nodded in agreement.

"Uryu, get your bow ready," Yoruichi reminded the archer.

Nodding, Uryu pushed up his glasses behind his hood before reaching underneath the shabby fabric to grip his hidden bow. His hands quickly released the awkward ties that kept the bow secured to the side of his torso, while his eyes scanned the balcony.

"I can see him!" Rukia gasped. Yoruichi shushed her quickly but not before a couple people in the crowd looked over in annoyance at her loud voice. Thankfully at Aizen's appearance, the crowd's excitement for their king grew and in the commotion, the strangers around them lost interest in Rukia's outburst.

"Where is he?" Uryu demanded.

"There," Yoruichi murmured. Uryu quickly spotted the suave man, with wavy brown hair and a handsome face. He wasn't doing anything more than conversing with General Tousen and looking enirely harmless and ordinary, but Uryu knew from memory how dangerous the man could be. His grip on his bow tightened considerably as a row of people in chains were brought onto the balcony.

"Are those the prisoners?" Rukia demanded.

Yoruichi studied the row of people intently for a moment before her brow furrowed.

"No… those are slaves. Tessai hasn't been brought out yet."

Rukia nodded, but Uryu was oblivious.

He could end it all now. He only had one arrow on him, but it would be enough. All it would take was one shot to the heart and they would be rid of Aizen forever. Uryu found his eyes narrowing as he watched the king inspect the slaves.

"Remember, you have to wait until he's tossed over the railing before you shoot the arrow. Not a moment sooner and not moment later, or Tessai's neck could break... Ururu and Jinta will be ready to extract him. Once he lands in their wagon, they'll race him away to Kisuke," Yoruichi whispered.

Rukia frowned.

"How do you know Aizen will hang him?"

Yoruichi smiled bitterly.

"Haven't you learned by now. All of his public executions are hangings."

"Not all of them," Rukia muttered to herself, before looking worriedly at Uryu. Her concern quickly grew to alarm at the sight of him with his bow held taut and poised in front of him with the arrow notched.

"Uryu what are you doing!? Tessai hasn't even been brought out yet!" she hissed, but Uryu was in his own world. It was a world where his mother and father had been struck down by the very man in front of him. Aizen was the one who had taken everything from him.

There was a heavy buzzing in his ears. Around him everything fell away as Aizen flooded his vision. The grip on the quiver was tight. The buzzing grew worse and then… then it was too late and the arrow had been set loose.

Uryu watched numbly as it sailed through the air and towards his target.

* * *

Ulquiorra's attention was snagged just as the early light of the sunrise flooded the trade market. All around him colors and sound came to life as baked goods and exotic fabrics went out on display in front of tents and wooden wagons. People in all shapes and sizes slowly came streaming into the streets. Still, it wasn't the morning hustle and bustle that had drawn his attention…

There was someone nearby with the faint remnants of a demonic aura. Could it be a washed out survivor from the ancient war? No - more likely it was a mortal with the taint of a demon ancestor.

"I'm here for the new collection of slaves your promised Aizen," a gruff voice spoke. Ulquiorra instantly honed in on the tall, muscular man who had approached the Master Auctioneer. His hair was dyed a vibrant blue, perhaps to match his azure eyes. He was tall, perhaps six feet and there was a rather jagged scar on the right side of his face. Dressed in some sort of white uniform, the man wore his white coat open to reveal a harsh looking scar that scraped down from his chest all the way to his navel, as if he had been soldered with a hot blade.

"Ah yes. Aizen's order of slaves for the princess - I have the group right over here," the Master Auctioneer - Mayuri - answered. Ulquiorra studied the muscular man for a moment, trying to determine if his demonic ancestry made him a threat. After a moment of contemplation, Ulquiorra deemed the man's spiritual prowess nonexistent. He would probably put up a decent fight physically but nothing more.

"What's this!?" Mayuri cried and rushed over to the post where Ulquiorra and several other slaves were chained. His attention instantly honed in on Cirucci who had been left discarded in the sand after her neck had been broken from the previous night. Behind him, the muscular man with blue hair whistled.

"Damn. Aizen isn't going to be pleased."

"What sort of rebellion is this!?" Mayuri demanded. Hounding on Ulquiorra, the painted man grasped him by the throat and shook him violently.

"Did you do this? I remember you from last night. What are you doing here? Where's the other number four?" he all but growled. Ulquiorra stared passively at him but remained silent as the Master Auctioneer tried to strangle him. On the other side of Cirucci, Tier Harribel stirred.

"His name is Ulquiorra," she murmured.

"Look, you'll have to sort this out later. Aizen is waiting. He wants to inspect them personally before the morning's execution," the muscular man reminded Mayuri. The painted man groaned and released Ulquiorra.

"His Majesty will be most displeased if I can't deliver the promised amount. He wanted five," he lamented and gesture to the chain where Ulquiorra, Tier, and two small girls stood. Cirucci would have been the fifth.

"That's not my problem," the muscular man shrugged. His blue eyes scanned over the slaves in disinterest.

"If only Stark hadn't fled," Mayuri grumbled as he went and untied the chain from the post.

As if on queue the palace bells began to toll four consecutive rings, indicating that a slave had escaped. Mayuri scowled at the noise, cursing the bells and how slow they were to alert of Stark's escape.

Wordlessly, he handed the chain of slaves to the muscular man before quickly removing Cirucci's body from the group. She was barely free before the muscular man was leading the chained group out of the trade market and towards the palace.

"Hurry up," the man ordered gruffly.

Ulquiorra felt his pulse quicken as they were led through a maze of stalls and wagons, and then through a back alley and up a hidden flight of stairs. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rose as he silently allowed the muscular man to lead them up to a balcony. His enemy was close.

He was vaguely aware of the throng of people below him and of a dark skinned man and a small pot of flowers on the balcony. He was also aware of the muscular man and the three other slaves shackled together. None of that matter however when Ulquiorra honed in on the man sitting directly in the center of the balcony on a white throne. Sosuke Aizen. A harsh snarl of ancient hatred rose up from the pit of his soul. If only he had the means to release it.

"No princess today?" the dark skinned man was asking. Aizen chuckled and raised a glass of wine to his lips.

"Don't you understand by now, Kaname? A subdued princess is an obedient one," he answered and took a leisure sip. The muscular man cleared his throat loudly to announce his arrival.

"I don't know why you let her live," the dark skinned man - Kaname - continued but was ignored. Ulquiorra went completely still as he watched the ruler of Los Noches gracefully rise from his throne. What was he to do now? Without a blade to bury in his enemy's heart, the curse would never be lifted.

"Ah Grimmjow. Who would have thought that your old slave attire would still fit after all that time serving under me as a free general. I trust you are well after the reapplication of another tattoo?" Aizen asked smoothly. Grimmjow gritted his teeth, but otherwise remained silent, still remembering the last conversation he had had with Aizen and the threats he had made against Nelliel. Grimmjow would do anything to keep her from harm - even if meant sacrificing his own dignity.

"Well enough," he ground out before yanking the chain of slaves roughly towards the king. Helpless against the moment, they all were forced to the front and very edge of the balcony with their backs to the crowd. Ulquiorra found himself standing almost an arms length away from the immortal, who was currently circling the muscular man - Grimmjow - like he was a piece of meat.

The palace bells rang four more consecutive tolls. Aizen glanced briefly at the four slaves before turning back in vague annoyance to Grimmjow.

"Where's the fifth slave? There are only four present."

Grimmjow shifted uneasily.

"Hell if I know. Mayuri mentioned one scaping," he explained uneasily. It was clear that Aizen's presence made him uncomfortable. Ulquiorra watched them could feel his eyes bleeding and the transformation threatening to revert him. Without his blade, it was much harder for him to maintain control.

Stepping away from Grimmjow, Aizen smirked.

"That's too bad," he commented in a far too light of tone. Grimmjow instantly tensed.

"Hey I had nothing to do with it," he defended. Aizen shrugged as he walked up to inspect that four slaves, starting on the far end where the two girls were.

"It's no matter. Nelliel will fill in nicely. Princess Orihime needs a fifth slave after all," he told Grimmjow breezily.

The muscular man responded by taking a threatening step towards Aizen.

"You son of a -"

"-careful," Kaname interrupted with a blade to Grimmjow's throat. Still, the blue haired man wouldn't be deterred.

"Nel was going to be a general. She was going to be free," he gritted out. Aizen shrugged as he stepped in front of Harribel and gripped her chin lightly for inspection. The blonde instantly stiffened but wisely remained silent as the king inspected her hair, eyes and teeth.

"It's already done."

Hearing Aizen's words, Grimmjow roared loudly,

"_You promised!"_

Ulquiorra's eyes darkened considerably at those words, remembering another time - a time long past when another being had cried out in a similar manner.

All he could see was Murcielago's mouth as it closed over him and he drowned in the darkness. All he could feel was his chest cavity and the heart he had once possessed melt into cold steal and emerge as a wicked weapon. All he could hear was the beast inside of his soul howl with rage and order him to finish what he had begun all those centuries ago… but what could he do without his blade?

The wretched curse would only end when Murcielago's thirst was quenched and the blade bathed in his enemy's life blood.

It was maddening to know how close he was to his enemy and and unable to do anything. It was maddening like acidic hunger and throbbing sickness and suffocating rage.

Ulquiorra felt the bone in his finger tips stretch painfully in his humanoid shaped hands. He didn't need to look to know that his talons were expanding once again. Indeed a similar pressure sprang from twin points on either side of the top of his head and even though he had never seen them in reflection or otherwise, he remembered his horns. Without the blade to stabilize him, he was reverting back into that monstrosity that was neither quite beast nor human. It was the base substance of a creature whose raw elements consisted of a desperate demon and a dying mortal.

It was erupting insanity.

Before Ulquiorra knew it, his chains had sprung open and he had stepped forward. In one fluid movement he gripped the king called Aizen roughly by his collar.

It was clear the immortal was momentarily blind sighted by the abrupt movement of the slave but before anything more could transpire, a crisp blue arrow flew straight out of the sky. Its trajectory was obvious, but with an obstacle blocking it's intended target, the sharp quarrel's pathway was struck short as it sunk directly into Ulquiorra's chest from behind.

Chaos ensued.

* * *

**AN: An explanation - 1. Gin intentionally allowed Tatsuki to escape and interrupted the bell tone and changed it to four rings to cover for her 2. Mayuri thought the bell ringing was indication of Stark's escape but at this point no one really knows that he was freed 3. Aizen had already ordered Nel's new tattoo and slave transfer to Orihime, he was just using the absence of a fifth slave as an excuse and means of tormenting Grimmjow.**

**On a different note: Thank you to all the overwhelming amount of reviews (especially from anon). I honestly wasn't expecting any. This story is so old and stale. To answer a few quick questions: I have seen Gankutsuou Count of Monte Cristo and yes, there are some parallels in this story though it wasn't intended. (On that note if you guys have a chance, listen to that anime's ending song, **_**Won't See Me Coming**_**. It's so good.) No I don't have any books published. Yes I will be updating Soul Butterfly Daycare soon and yes, Orihime and Ulquiorra will meet next chapter. **


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